Unexplained
by Liebling
Summary: ‘And maybe one day she’d know that…that people stay and people go, and some people leave forever…and some people simply can’t be explained.’ Just odd. Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy (sans Romance)


Authors Note: This is obscenely odd and I am very surprised with it! I thought of it last night while trying to fall asleep and I thought it'd be a great basis for a fic. It didn't end how I thought it would (the ending being either quick romance or lots of angst) and it ended sort of, I don't know...maybe even melancholy!  
  
I'm really not sure.  
  
Disclaimer: All belongs to Jo Rowling.  
  
;)  
  
"You should be kissed and often   
  
And by someone who knows how."  
  
~Rhett Butler~   
  
Gone With the Wind   
  
*  
  
She had this rule.  
  
And it was a silly rule, and everyone would've agreed--but no one knew, you see.  
  
It was just one of those things that you don't want to tell even your best of friends about. It was secret and ridiculous...but it was hers.  
  
And it always was so. Through the good times, and that bad times, and while she was young, and as she got older. It just was, as though it had been invented long before her time.  
  
And perhaps it had.  
  
She made her way to class, and she smiled and grinned sometimes. She walked the halls and ate the delicious chicken, and she was there, in some way. But she paved no way, and she made no new path, she existed. But she did not live. She had friends, a few. A boy with hay blond hair who insisted on protecting her. And that would have been nice had there been an actual threat. But there never had been. And she had another friend, a young girl, her hair always in plaits with emerald ribbons at the ends. And the girl was nice, so she was in Hufflepuff.  
  
She got decent grades. Never amazing, never awful, just decent.   
  
And she got in trouble at times too. Generally for forgetting about homework or sleeping through the first few classes. And so she served detention, scrubbing the trophies or cleaning the bedpans, or something of the sort. And when she was done she'd sigh.  
  
And go on.  
  
Once she even talked to Blaise Zabini. She went over to the Slytherin table and grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the hall. He was rolling his eyes all the way, but she didn't notice. Once the two made their way out of the hall (with much snickering behind them.) The girl talked to the boy in a near whisper, and he smirked and rolled his eyes and he muttered something about "let me go!" And she said something about her Gryffindor boy. When she was done speaking to him they went their separate ways, and the issue was never brought up again.  
  
Blaise was a git, but he had some class.  
  
And this, although unexplained, was part of her rule. You see, she had a rule, it should've been written (and it was, in her purple diary) and the rule stated this:  
  
*One may not dislike or loathe a person unless one has the utmost understanding of the person. And or unless one realizes and has concrete evidence to not like said person.*  
  
Even though she was often annoying, unfair, judgmental or sweet as pumpkin pie---she kept by her rule. And this was her rule, the sole rule of Ms. Ginny Anne Weasley.  
  
And she intended to stick to it.  
  
It was a chilly day and then it dawned on her, something she'd been trying to squelch for so long. There was this boy. A sugary blond haired boy who liked fancy clothes and fancy parchment and fancy...everything. And his ties were tied correctly and never hung loosely around his neck. And he was nice-looking, for someone so blue-blooded. But he had this arrogant attitude that never quite appealed to the silly redhead.   
  
And she realized, or rather, understood that she really didn't like him. And that she'd never really liked him. And a finger could not quite be placed on it. There were many arrogant people in the world, like her Gryffindor friend. He was very arrogant, and she still adored him. But maybe that was because she had no other.  
  
It was chilly and the rain was getting to her head. The sweet smell of fallen crystals and the slushy ground beneath her boot-clad feet got to her head. Her scarlet-haired head. And she was walking...and she wasn't sure where she was going. But she knew that Draco Malfoy hung out around here in the rain. She'd never liked the rain all that much. He was hidden beneath a large oak tree the haze making him come across as eerie. But she pushed on, shivering all the while as she balanced her book-bag that was resting on her shoulder. He made eye contact with her from afar and his diamond eyes bore into hers.  
  
She made it to the oak tree, her cheeks red from the walking and her hair mussed up.  
  
The girl smiled grimly at the tall boy before her.   
  
"Um. Hello. Malfoy...you don't mind if I call you that, do you?"  
  
If possible, he looked even smugger. "Fine, Weasley. It's cold. Why are you here?" The words were blunt and cool.  
  
"...you see," and then she trailed off feeling awkward. "I wanted to talk to you."  
  
"I already think you're a blithering idiot, but now you've taken it to new levels."  
  
"You're smug."  
  
"And...?"  
  
"I don't like that."  
  
"Weasley-" he said in a condescending manner "-you came all the way out here to tell me how I'm living the wrong sort of life?"  
  
"No..." she shook her head "I came down here to see why I even care."  
  
He laughed briefly and then he met her eyes. "You care because you're a Weasley and as a Weasley you attempt to be the self-righteous humanoids of society. And it isn't working."  
  
"And it'll never work," she said with a sigh.  
  
"Most likely not."  
  
"See," she said, "there's this thing-"  
  
"A thing?"  
  
"Yes, a thing. And I feel like I need to know why I loathe you."  
  
"You don't have to have a reason for everything, Weasley."  
  
"Yes," she said firmly, "I do."  
  
"What do you want from me? I want to be here alone. Without you. Sans Weasleys."  
  
"We don't always get what we want, Malfoy."  
  
"I do."  
  
She smiled and took his large pale hand in her small one. It was limp, and she shook it.  
  
"Thanks Malfoy," she said quickly. "I realize that...that this was a stupid idea. So I'm going to take my exit now and you, you have fun okay?"  
  
"Okay, Weasley. If it'll make you feel better."  
  
She turned her head, taken aback by the comment. "Malfoy do you loathe me?"  
  
"Yes. Now leave." His voice was firm and stable but he let a small grin loose.  
  
Smiling at the way things were she trudged back to Hogwarts. Stopping only to blow the tall boy a kiss and giggle, and then continue walking. It hadn't been a particularly interesting conversation, and it hadn't been what she had expected, and she had learned just one thing.  
  
One thing that would stay with her for always: The rain brings out strange things in people.  
  
It brings out decency and cold and realizations.   
  
She never quite figured out why she disliked Malfoy so much. And she never would.   
  
But she had tried, and when she got back to the comfort and warmth of her own dormitory she took out a large purple journal and opened it. She took a sip of hot cocoa and wrote quickly in her purple journal. About blowing kisses, rules, and the rain.  
  
Then, she closed the journal and looked out the glassy window towards the Forbidden Forest.   
  
And there he was, still under the oak tree, slumped. And it looked as though he was blowing kisses at the wind. But she couldn't be so sure; she rarely was, after all.  
  
And she smiled as she took another sip of cocoa.  
  
And maybe one day she'd know that...that people stay and people go, and some people leave forever...and some people simply can't be explained.  
  
~*~  
  
La Fin 


End file.
